Technologically Unadvanced
by frakkingblerg
Summary: A little thank yew & HB rolled into one. My (pseudo) attempt at a little cute.


**A/N:** My pseudo attempt at cute, a little thank yew & HB rolled into one. Thanks for always letting me vent & reigning in my angsty, crazy self - oh, and walking my through all computer mishaps. I'm a real Brenda like that.

Pulling into the driveway, Sharon immediately noticed that silver Crown Vic occupying the usually empty (circa early evening) right side - Brenda must have closed her case sooner than anticipated. While it wasn't completely outside the realm of possible for the Chief to scoot out a little before closing on a Friday (it had happened _one_ other time), the blonde normally called. Oh God, hopefully this wasn't another one of Brenda's brilliant surprises that more often than not involved an attempt at cooking some elaborate meal (if you consider hamburgers elaborate) and almost _always_ ended with a friendly visit from the neighborhood LAFD. If the Chief hadn't saved over 300 lives by effectively halting the bombing of those paramedics funerals a few years back, the brunette was pretty sure the fire department would be charging for said visits in the near future. And honestly, there was only so much the Captain could do with an extinguisher before things just got out of hand…

Pulling her bags from the backseat, she clipped up the front stoop and unlocked the door with a quick flick of the wrist. Instantly she was overwhelmed by a wall of fumes, a rather pungent combination of lemon and bleach to be exact. Scrunching her nose in disgust and waving a hand, she pitifully attempted to circulate fresh air. Oh for fuck's sake, what had Brenda done now? Looking around, Sharon noted that not only had the blonde picked up the hurricane of clothes, shoes, and boxes that littered almost every available surface and floor space in the living room (she'd moved in officially three weeks prior), but it appeared she'd also gone ahead and used a duster _and the vacuum_. No, this was definitely not good - the living room, dare she say, actually sparkled.

Continuing on her journey, Sharon discovered the kitchen just as spotless and scrubbed down. Suddenly, she felt an inexplicable need for a Xanax, or five. The blonde never picked up after herself unless she was explicitly told to do so (Sharon may or may not have held out on sex until things were put away, but desperate times called for desperate measures)…or she'd done something wrong. And by the looks of their now shared abode, the odds weren't in the Captain's favor. The brunette couldn't help but roll her eyes, momentarily reliving the younger woman's last cleaning spree. After a particularly ridiculous Major Crimes OIS involving the Deputy Chief and a rather obnoxious fugitive (honestly, he'd deserved the bullet to the knee - holding a 5-year-old hostage was crossing some serious lines), the brunette had come home to a spotless master bedroom and bath. Brenda had been concerned that the added stress of yet another shared investigation on the heels of the Goldman fiasco would threaten their (then relatively new) dating situation.

Looking around the spotless first floor (was that the vacuum running upstairs?), Sharon pondered exactly how much trouble the blonde had gotten herself into. If there'd been a shooting, the Captain surely would have been alerted by now, right? Taking a final cleansing breath, preparing herself for whatever crazy Brenda had managed to find herself in, she headed upstairs toward the muffled sound of the Dyson. Rounding the corner, she found the younger woman in the most ridiculous, but adorable, cleaning getup she'd ever seen. Brenda's hair was swept up in a messy bun fixed high on the top if her head. Clad in one of Sharon's oversized BU sweatshirts, complete with a few holes in the seam, and an old pair of the brunette's running shorts, the younger woman appeared deep in thought – mechanically running the machine back and forth over already clean carpet. The Captain felt a possessive thrill shoot through her at the sight. While they'd been dating for months, it'd only been recently that she'd discovered how complete it felt to be under the same roof. It hadn't taken long for the blonde to opt for Sharon's clothing over her own when they weren't working. Those little things, still relatively new, never failed to take the older woman's breath away. Continuing her appraisal of the beautiful woman in front of her, Sharon propped her hip against the door – Brenda looked up, shutting off the vacuum and closed the distance between them.

"Hey sneaky, I didn't hear you come in." The blonde blew up a puff of air, attempting to move the hair that'd fallen into her face. Reaching out for the older woman's waist, she pulled Sharon close, allowing their lips to brush before nuzzling into her neck. Brenda sought that little spot, where her head fit perfectly, like a heat-seeking missile. And after a long week, she couldn't help but hide in the mass of brown hair. Perhaps she could just stay here forever.

Sharon splayed her hands over the small of the younger woman's back, pulling her in a bit, and dropped a kiss on her head. After a few long moments enjoying the quiet warmth, the brunette pulled back and blurted out the question she'd been _dying_ to ask since she'd arrived home.

"So what did you do?" Apparently that cool, calm, Captain Raydor façade hadn't made it home - she needed to work on tact when it came to the easily jarred, emotional woman in front of her. She could see the color slowly draining from the blonde's face. Oh fuck, this wasn't good at all.

"What I mean is, while I appreciate you coming home early and cleaning up, that usually only happens when you've done something..."

"Maybe I just wanted to surprise you, you ever think of that," Brenda huffed, feigning indignation at the idea that her actions were driven by an ulterior motive. Of course they were, they always were, but first she'd play her cards right and catch Sharon at the perfect moment before dropping her latest bomb. Looking back into those incredible green eyes, she shot the brunette her best innocent grin, hoping Sharon would fall for the show. Worst case, she'd throw her on the bed and devise her of that perfect suit - an orgasm or two always put the Captain in a great frame of mind. Maybe Brenda could even sneak in her latest debacle right before Sharon came…that could work, right? Making a mental note of that Hail Mary play, she returned to the task at hand - convincing her very astute girlfriend that absolutely nothing was wrong.

"I don't believe you - too many thoughts are whizzing through that pretty little head of yours." Sharon rested her forehead against the blonde's, mostly for dramatic effect, she could read the younger woman like a book. "Just tell me Brenda Leigh, it can't be that bad. I promise I won't get mad. Well, not too mad…"

"Nothin' is wrong, I just took off early. I was tired of listenin' to you pesterin' me about moving my stuff." The blonde extracted herself from Sharon's arms, jutted out her bottom lip, and rested her hands on her hips. A pouting Brenda Leigh never failed to make the Captain melt.

_Well_, Sharon figured, Brenda did have a point. She'd been riding the younger woman's ass (no pun intended - sort of) for the better part of a week about cleaning up the tornado of things currently overtaking the house. Maybe she'd finally caved? Still, it seemed a little to good to be true. But for now she'd let it go. How much trouble could Brenda possibly get into over these last few hours? If it had been something serious and work related, the Captain would have been alerted hours ago. And the house seemed to still be in one piece. Resigning herself to the fact that maybe she'd overreacted to the blonde's grand cleaning gesture, Sharon dropped the subject and allowed her younger lover to pull them both toward the bed.

2 hours later, both a little exhausted from their exertions, Brenda head was resting on her hand, using the free one to gently map the contours of the older woman's side when she heard her stomach growl.

"I'm guessin' someone's hungry …" The blonde craned her neck, nipping at Sharon's shoulder and giggled. "For somethin' besides me, that is."

The older woman couldn't help but roll her eyes, attempting her best Captain Raydor scowl, feigning annoyance at such a ridiculous statement. Unfortunately, it was incredibly hard to pretend when Brenda was so beautiful – not to mention, completely naked. "Surprisingly, yes," she husked, "I didn't have much time for lunch, considering how trigger happy Hollywood's been for the past few weeks."

How 'bout we get somethin' from that Indian place?" Maybe Brenda could butter her girlfriend up with a promise of butter chicken (pun intended), or that weird red stuff she so enjoyed. After Sharon's favorite meal, she couldn't possibly get too upset at the blonde's small, almost miniscule error.

"Indian, Brenda Leigh?" Sharon's eyebrow raised, suddenly she was very suspicious. "If I remember correctly, you've_ never_ been interested in eating there." The blonde's _'I can't pronounce anything on their menu'_ speech immediately came to mind. She'd been privy to that song and dance almost every time she'd merely suggested take-out from a local favorite.

"I figured you've had a tough week, with Hollywood and all their doin's. I can make do with some hummus and that flat, white bread lookin' stuff…"

"Naan honey, it's called Naan. And hummus is more Middle Eastern, Egyptian I believe." Sharon stifled a laugh – how the blonde ever got through basic CIA training was something she'd never understand.

"Fine, I'll get some _Naan_," Brenda carefully annunciated, "and just get two of whatever you're havin' – unless it's weird, or got those little bean things…"

"They're lentils. We can order from somewhere else. As touched as I am by the gesture, conceding the take-out decision, we could always just grab a pizza."

As much as the blonde wanted to say yes (because who ever said no to pizza), she would stand her ground and allow this evening to be dictated by Sharon. After all, once she found out about the whole computer debacle, there was a legitimate chance they'd no longer be together anyway. Those odds decreased tremendously, at least in Brenda's mind, once you factored in the cleaning, orgasms, and copious amounts of Indian food. Perhaps, if she was lucky, the older woman would slip into a post-feast food coma, giving her ample opportunity to casually slip in, _'oh by the way, baby, I think I broke your super fancy computer. And maybe mine too.'_

Sitting across from Sharon on the couch, toes firmly planted under the brunette's ass, Brenda attempted to stifle a look of disgust as she shoveled another heaping bite of Aloo Gobi in her mouth. Silver lining, they'd stopped at the local convenience store before heading home, giving the blonde a few moments to stoke up on some essential after dinner treats. She'd opted for a box of Tastykake Peanut Butter Kandy Kakes and Oatmeal Crème Pies. And at this moment, the mere existence of those cakes was the only thing getting her through. Glancing over at the older woman, deep in concentration over the latest Vikki vs Tamera altercation on Real Housewives, Brenda decided it was now or never. Taking a deep breath and shooting up a quick _'please don't let her be mad at me forever'_ prayer to the Lord above, she tentatively began her confession.

'Shar? I need to tell you somethin'…"

"What's up," muttered the brunette, attention still focused on the screaming match between two overly botoxed, bleach blonde women on screen.

"I think I mighta' broken your computer…with mine."

"What?!" In one swift motion, the television was turned off and Sharon's eyes were intently focused on the blonde. Brenda could see the anger surfacing; although it was obvious the older woman was trying to remain composed.

"Well I, I was tryin' to print those pictures from last weekend off…" In celebration of their 6-month anniversary and getting through the move in relatively one piece, Sharon had elected to book them a room up the coast, at a local vineyard for a little r&r. Over their 2-day adventure, they'd sampled a variety of great wines, enjoyed a candlelit dinner, and even had time for a little hiking, much to the younger woman's chagrin. Brenda had managed to snap some candid moments and posed shots with Sharon's digital camera, vowing to print them once they'd arrived home. But of course, a case had promptly popped up only hours after they'd reentered the city and _'framing photos'_ had been added to their very long to-do list. Currently, their living room had several open spots, places they'd commandeered for displaying their relationship (in black and white, of course) – but most of those frames still had the random pictures they'd come with. And the blonde was getting pretty tired of glancing around at photos of people she didn't know.

"…And when I laid my laptop on top of yours – well, somethin' sparked and then smoke, and I couldn't stop the fan from whizzin' around in mine. I turned it off, but I haven't been able to get either of them back on since." Brenda's lip began to quiver; she really was hopeless with technology. It had been such a relief that Sharon knew all sorts of tricks, like how to work the Google or the correct way to install the latest snow leopard, or was it snow lion? "I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't mean to break anything. I was just tryin' to surprise you."

Sharon was counting back from ten, attempting to not completely lose her shit on a very upset Brenda Leigh. It was true; the blonde had the technological abilities of a squirrel. Something that still baffled the Captain, to be honest, considering she made 6 figures and had a job that required frequent computer usage. And while the idea of her laptop now possibly being no more than scrap metal for parts made her want to throttle the younger woman, she couldn't deny how simultaneously adorable she was. Her sweet, charming girlfriend has simply been trying to surprise the older woman. Who could really get mad about that?

"Hey Brenda?" When the blonde refused to meet her gaze, Sharon grabbed for one stubby hand, interlacing their fingers.

"Honey, it's okay…" Before she could finish the statement, Brenda launched herself across the couch and into the older woman's lap, curling into her body. Momentarily startled, the brunette wrapped her arms around the slender woman and dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead. After a few moments, Brenda lifted her head and wiped at her cheeks.

"I figured you were gonna be pretty upset," she cried. "I know I shoulda told you sooner, but I was so nervous you'd want me to move out or somethin' and I was scared." While she realized her fears were somewhat ridiculous, and it was uncouth to compare relationships, she couldn't help but flash back to all those times Fritz had made her feel like an abject failure for the smallest mistake. He'd all but threatened to leave on more then one occasion if a shoe wasn't put away. Naturally she'd acquired a bit of trepidation, fear even, surrounding displeasing her significant other. Of course, projecting those feelings on her sweet, much less needy and demanding Captain wasn't very fair, she could admit that too. Sharon, to the blonde's surprise, had accepted her, professional blemishes and all, with no judgment – no expectations on who Brenda should be, how she should act, what she should want from life. She'd always known the older woman cared, that was incredibly evident throughout their lawsuit dealings, but it'd been thrilling to find out that extended well beyond their working relationship. In fact, if Brenda actually believed in those corny love stories, she'd say they were something like soul mates, a perfect complement. Not to mention, Sharon did not have balls – something Brenda soon realized, after merely a few weeks of dating, she didn't miss at all.

"Why don't we check out those computers, see if there's a chance we can save at least one?" Sharon murmured, brushing her lips against the blonde's before rising, offering a hand to pull Brenda to her feet.

15 minutes and one very hostile Mac Support person later, they'd managed to resuscitate the blonde's laptop - unfortunately, the same couldn't be said about Sharon's. Good news, according to the older woman, there was something called 'the cloud' that she could easily access through LAPD computers. Not to mention she'd backed up earlier that morning – no harm, no foul. And the brunette's son would be in town for a conference later that week. After a quick text, he'd agreed to help troubleshoot (sometimes it paid to have a son who rebuilt computers for fun) if Buzz and Tao weren't able to reboot the machine. All in all, it appeared yet another Brenda Leigh Johnson vs technology crisis had been averted.

As the blonde left to fetch their wine glasses, Sharon noticed the sun catch on a unfamiliar silver object – almost completely buried amid case files and random paperwork. Extracting it slowly, as not to mess up Brenda's unorganized, haphazard pile, she found herself holding a frame.

"Brenda, is this yours," the brunette called toward the office door, inspecting the rather lovely object she was currently holding. It was double matted, silver plated satin if she wasn't mistaken, with an understated yet elegant beading around the edges. Engraved across the top it read simply _'Love is always bestowed as a gift - freely, willingly and without expectation.' _The bottom continued, '_We don't love to be loved; we love to love. I'll love you always -BLJ'_ if there was any chance that Captain was still harboring ill feelings towards her girlfriend's latest technological debacle, they'd all but disappeared.

Returning with their glasses, Brenda found the brunette focused solely on the gift she'd planned on giving later that evening – that had been the plan, until she'd shocked her laptop and destroyed any chances of printing a photo to go inside that lovely frame.

"Sharon Raydor, are you snoopin' through my things," she exclaimed, placing the glasses down and easily settling into the brunette's lap. Looking into those big brown eyes, the older woman couldn't seem to find words.

"I was gonna give that to you with a picture from last weekend…"

"Honey, it's beautiful. I love it." Sharon brought their lips together for a passionate kiss, desperate to express all those feelings she hadn't verbalized quite yet. While they'd defied almost all logic, their relationship moving at the speed of light, there were still things Sharon couldn't say aloud – not yet. Those thoughts were too overpowering, the need was too great, almost consuming her. For now, she knew one thing. This incredibly ridiculous, adorable, hopelessly romantic blonde in front of her made the older woman feel thing she'd never expected. Their love felt deeper, more perfect in its imperfections, and that wasn't something Sharon was willing to let go – broken laptops and all.


End file.
